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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29639616">On Good Authority</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/everylemon/pseuds/everylemon'>everylemon</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Final Fantasy XV</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Brotherhood: Final Fantasy XV, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Humor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 20:08:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,084</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29639616</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/everylemon/pseuds/everylemon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Your Highness, please ban exams.” It’s a tired old joke, which is about all he has energy for.</p><p>“Okay,” Noct says.</p><p>"C'mon, you know you . . . wait, what?!”</p><p>“I said okay." Noct's shrug crunches the parched grass beneath his shoulder pads. "If a verbal decree’s fine with you, I could do it now.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Prompto Argentum &amp; Noctis Lucis Caelum</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>92</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>On Good Authority</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s so hot.</p><p>It’s the kind of hot where Prompto’s brain can’t do much more than keep looping back to that same thought. Dying park grass prickles the back of his neck. His school blazer lays discarded on the ground, along with his tie, and he can feel dampness where the back of his shirt is soaked through. Guess he’ll just have to never stand up again.</p><p>He opens his mouth to suggest they do something, preferably indoors, but all that comes out is: “It’s so hot.”</p><p>Noct makes a noise of agreement. He’s laying down with his legs angled up so he can prop his feet on a tree trunk, and the page of history notes he’s holding over his face casts it into shade. Somehow, he's still got his blazer on.</p><p>The park’s not busy before the elementary schools get out; right now, there's just some other high schoolers tossing a ball at the other end. It's far enough into summer that they’ve still got a while before dusk. There’s a Crownsguard around somewhere, Prompto’s sure, though he doesn’t ask.</p><p>“Aren’t you gonna study?” Noct asks.</p><p>“Too hot to study.”</p><p>“Not too hot to fail.”</p><p>“Your Highness, please ban exams.” It’s a tired old joke, which is about all he has energy for.</p><p>“You don’t actually want me to do that.” Noct turns his page of notes over to the other side.</p><p>“Yes, I do and if you <em>really</em> loved me you’d do it,” Prompto whines. He’s relaxed, letting himself edge towards obnoxious. Noct’s really the only person he can do that with. Some days it feels like he saves it all up for the time when they hang out. Maybe sometimes he veers into definitely annoying territory, and he can read that on Iggy’s face if he’s around, but Noct somehow never seems to care. (Or at least, he hasn’t . . . yet.)</p><p>“Okay,” Noct says.</p><p>"C'mon, you know you . . . wait, what?!”</p><p>“I said okay." Noct's shrug crunches the parched grass beneath his shoulder pads. "If a verbal decree’s fine with you, I could do it now.”</p><p>“Are you — are you — okay, yes, <em>duh</em>, please do that <em>right now</em>.” Energy has flooded back into his body. He sits up and tugs at his damp shirt to un-stick it from his back.</p><p>Noct rolls up to his feet, brushes grass off his butt, and stands up straight. Regal. Seeing it — it makes Prompto nervous all of a sudden, actually. He usually only sees Noct like this on the news; there’s a whole different way he holds himself when he’s Being the Prince™.</p><p>“I, Noctis Lucis Caelum, Crown Prince of Lucis, 114th of the name, heir to the throne of Lucis, divinely chosen recipient of the power of the Blessed Crystal — may it forever protect our land — hereby declare that all and sundry educational examinations are heretofore banned from the kingdom in perpetuity."</p><p>Noct is staring into the distance with a look of command on his face, and he holds it. A bird flies out of the tree. A truck rattles by. Prompto can’t quite bring his jaw to hinge shut.</p><p>And then Noct flops back down on the grass and closes his eyes again. After a moment, he might actually be asleep.</p><p>Prompto snaps his mouth closed. “Oh man <em>oh man</em> oh man did you really. Just.” He’s gesturing wildly. “What. What happens now?”</p><p>“Nothing,” Noct says, nonchalant.</p><p>“Nothing?!”</p><p>“Nah, I have zero authority.” Noct is rolling his eyes beneath his eyelids and Prompto can <em>tell.</em> “Can’t make anyone to do anything.”</p><p>"You suck, dude, I really believed you for a second," he groans, sprawling out dramatically on the ground. He can see Noct's grin behind the arm he's thrown over his eyes. "But like, you're the Prince. You make people do things all the time."</p><p>"Uh, no, they do them for me, but not because I ordered them to. Maybe my dad did. Or maybe they 'respect my position,'" he says with a passable impression of Ignis at the end. "But being Crown Prince doesn't put me in charge of anything or anyone, so mostly I have to ask politely and hope, just like the rest of the world.”</p><p>Prompto’s not sure why this surprises him. Handing actual authority to an 18-year-old high schooler would be a terrible idea. “What about, like, Ignis?”</p><p>Noct snorts. “I’m not his boss. More like the other way around.”</p><p>“Yeah, but you’re always asking him to do things, and he says yes.”</p><p>“Babysitters like to keep the kids happy,” he grouses, then flings the arm back off his eyes. “Nah, that’s not fair, Iggy’s great. But he's on my dad’s payroll, not mine.”</p><p>Prompto considers this. “You have a payroll?”</p><p>“I have a line in the nation’s budget," he sighs. “It’s a matter of <em>public record</em>.”</p><p>“Aha!” Several memories now make more sense, most notably one where the Crown Prince turned in a coupon for buy-one, get-one soft pretzels from the convenience store. “So <em>that’s</em> why you’re a cheapskate.”</p><p>Noctis rolls over on his stomach and lifts his head up, a green leaf stuck in the front his hair, to fix Prompto with a very serious look. “When I was ten, I took the Crown credit card I’d been given for emergencies and used it to buy a giant stuffed moogle from the arcade because I didn’t have enough tickets. It was $64.99. The accountant alerted my father and I had to come stand before the budget council, apologize for wasting Crown funds, and promise to submit all my receipts to a special ethics auditor.”</p><p>“That's rough, bud,” Prompto says, swatting the leaf out of Noct’s hair. “But you own a lot of dumb stuff now, so what happened?”</p><p>“Ignis,” Noct says. That’s kind of the answer to a lot of inexplicable things in Noct’s life, he’s noticed. “He expenses everything under ‘miscellaneous care of Crown Prince.’ Until I got my job, anyway. That’s better. I hate having to ask him for stuff.”</p><p>“Huh,” says Prompto, thoughtful. “I thought you were working to like, stay in touch with the people, but you really just didn’t want your dad to find out how much money you spend on nacho fries.”</p><p>“Mmmm,” Noct says, either in agreement or in memory of the nacho fries, Prompto can’t quite tell. He seems to have lost the will to focus now, too. He wilts back into the grass. “It’s hot.”</p><p>“Yeah.” Prompto waits a beat. “Slushees?”</p><p>Noct grins. “By royal decree.”</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The giant moogle was for a little kid crying at the arcade because he wanted the moogle, darnit, not the four tootsie rolls and single eraser he could actually buy with his tickets.</p><p>Find me on <a href="http://every-lemon.tumblr.com">tumblr</a> and <a href="https://twitter.com/everylemon1">twitter.</a></p><p>👇say hi!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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